


But I Do

by agentsimmons



Series: Begin Again [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Basically Brian Banner Sucks In Any Verse, Blind Date, Bruce Banner Cooks, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Meek Bruce, Natasha Is a Good Bro, POV Bruce Banner, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Poor Bruce, Science Boyfriends, Self-Esteem Issues, Starting Over, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsimmons/pseuds/agentsimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony throws his head back laughing like a little kid and Bruce finds it strange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I Do

**Author's Note:**

> TW for implied emotional/psychological abuse in a previous relationship, and reference to picking up the pieces after a bad relationship, on top of already having self-esteem issues from a traumatic childhood. Which is why it's probably way too fluffy in the end for those kinds of details, but I'm kind of awful at angst so a heads up for that. 
> 
> In this AU: They're younger, there's a good deal of playing with canon origin stories, and Tony has already dealt with the bulk of his demons putting him in a better place than Bruce has been. And while I realize Bruce is no longer that meek in the comics and such, he's definitely struggling with meekness/self esteem in this. Also who exactly ran Bruce down (besides his father and various others) in his past relationship is left unknown. You can fill in whoever you want or make it OFC or OMC.

Bruce looks long and hard at himself in his mirror and wonders for the millionth time why he had agreed to this.

He's spent the last eight months of his life convinced that love isn't worth it. It had broken his mother's body because she believed for too long that his father could change. It had led him to believe that he could be happy only to have it break and burn and end.

Eight months of hell. Eight months of up and down. Eight months of wondering why he'd ever been so stupid. Eight months of trying to learn how to believe he deserves better than what he's gotten out of life so far.

That's why he has no business putting himself out there like this. He has no business trying to start something. He has no business pretending he can figure this love thing out. He has no business… pretending that he could possibly be interesting enough for anyone ever to be interested in him.

He knows he isn't. He's a genius. He's a young physicist. He's awkward. He's meek. He's a weakling. He's absolutely nobody's definition of interesting. In fact, he's heard the word freak one too many times in his life that if he had to call himself something, freak would probably be it.

So as he breathes deeply, studying his reflection, he realizes it's a wasted effort. His curly hair is barely manageable even with product and styling and the trim he got last week. His glasses are old and accentuate just how much he's doomed to be a scientist, a nerd with the charisma of a slug. His low-budget khaki slacks and purple button up shirt...

That he needs to change. Oh god, he needs to change it!

He quickly undoes the top two buttons before stopping.

No, no. He doesn't. He likes this shirt. Others don't, but he does. He doesn't have time to change and it probably doesn't matter anyway. He's uninteresting and unappealing. Changing his shirt won't change who he is.

So he sighs, doesn't bother with buttoning back up, it's just a casual late afternoon date in the middle of the week after all, and he leaves his room. He heads for the table by the door to grab his wallet and keys and smiles softly in spite of himself at the note from his roommate.

_Bruce, you're ready. I promise you won't regret this, but on the off chance I'm wrong you know you can count on me to stab him in the neck for you. Try and have fun. You deserve it. You're a great guy, so don't be afraid to act like it. – Tasha_

He's not a great guy and he wouldn't even begin to know how to act like it. Still, he's taking this risk. He figures she deserves his trust after being there to help him pick up the pieces. He knows she's trying to help him move on. He can't wallow for another eight months and expect her to put up with him. Sure, she would for his sake, but he can do this he tells himself. She'd promised him over and over that the guy he's meeting is also a genius and that they'll at least get along well enough for it to likely end friendly if nothing else; it's a small reassurance even if it's still technically a date until such time it inevitably isn't.

He grabs his helmet, leaves the apartment and heads down to his moped. Even his modem of transportation is weak and pathetic like he is, but he likes the open air and he can't afford a larger bike or convertible and riding his actual bicycle everywhere is impossible. He's also not keen on public transportation unless absolutely necessary.

He puts on his helmet, a fancy one with Bluetooth that Natasha got him for Christmas, and quickly pulls his phone out and syncs up his playlist to it, making sure to keep the volume at a reasonable minimum so as not to be too much of a distraction. He then puts it back into his pocket and hops on, preparing himself for whatever is to come.

As he drives, a song he wishes he had the good sense to delete from his playlist comes on. He loves it, it speaks to him, but apparently it's not anything of substance and it makes him think of his life up until eight months ago. He wonders if it's an omen. Maybe he should turn around now and be _that guy_. But he doesn't want to add 'the guy who stands up his dates' to the list of things wrong with him.

He parks down the block and walks the rest of the way to the café. He has time. He's a little early and he doubts there was much Natasha could have said to sell him as someone worth showing up on time to meet. That's just how these things go.

He walks into the café and is grateful he has his helmet to hold onto or he would be nervously wringing his hands. But then he scans the scene and stops in his tracks.

Right then the other man looks up, must recognize him from Natasha's description, and smiles brightly. Not just brightly, but… there's not words for it and Bruce is one, sure he's seen that smile before and two, suddenly more nervous than before because Natasha _would_ find him the most attractive man he's ever laid eyes on. He shouldn't have worn his purple shirt. He should have spent longer on his hair. He should… probably stop standing there blinking like a deer in headlights because his date is waving at him – as if he could have missed somebody like him.

He takes a breath and walks over. He just has a chance to hang his helmet on the back of his chair when the man stands up suddenly and grasps his hand firmly to shake it.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner," he says with the kind of voice that could probably persuade anyone to do anything. "Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled."

Bruce blinks several times because not only is that a compliment he's never in his life imagined would come out of anyone's mouth in regards to him but also because it suddenly dawns on him once he's up close why the other man seemed vaguely familiar. "Thanks," he stammers out awkwardly. "And you're…" His eyes are probably wide. "You're Tony Stark," he says knowingly as Tony lets go of his hand.

"Yeah," Tony admits as he sits back down in his seat and Bruce follows suit. "Sorry I didn't have Nat tell you. I just… I thought it would be better this way."

"I'm a little confused," he confesses sheepishly. "I know Natasha works in legal at SI, but… I had no idea she knew you personally." He honestly has to wonder why that's never come up in the eight months he's lived with her. Or has it and he was too depressed to register it?

Tony smiles and Bruce wants to blush, because he's meek and pathetic. "She's good friends with my personal assistant, Pepper. She might have overheard me telling Pepper how much I'd like to pick your brain. Which reminds me, I'd especially love it if you came by Stark Tower." Bruce feels his stomach twist in a knot. This isn't a date; it's a professional meeting of colleagues. It's one genius taking interest in another genius which is worlds different from taking interest in someone as an individual. "But, uh, I'd be lying if I said it was completely professional."

Bruce blinks and says, "Uh… You… I…" Because if it hadn't been completely professional before, he might as well give the man a damn reason for it to stay that way now.

"I mean… You didn't think…? Did Natasha tell you this was just a professional thing between two geniuses?" Tony studies him intently and Bruce feels his heart palpitate just a little off kilter.

"Um, well, she did mention you were a genius and that she thought we'd get along, but… No, she implied it was a date-date." And doesn't he just sound like an idiot? _Date-date_? Is he 15? "But she said if it didn't work out she thought we'd at least make good friends so it would be worth the, uh, risk." He doesn't want to add complicated back story on top of the abysmal impression he must be making.

"Huh." Tony looks at him like he can see past that remark. He looks like the calculating genius he is. "Well, I agree with that optimism. You and I would be amazing friends. But, I'll be honest; I came here strictly under the pretense of getting to know you for more than just your work on nuclear physics, Doctor." Tony says it so warmly, so seriously, that Bruce can almost believe him, but he can't begin to understand why. What has Natasha been saying about him? "Don't get me wrong, your professional biography _is_ breathtaking. Your IQ is off the charts. Very attractive in its own right. I'm sure you know enough about my reputation to know I'm fairly egotistic, but I'm blown away by your accomplishments. I'm a little surprised you haven't accomplished more."

Bruce sighs. Apparently some back story is inevitable on a first - _only_ he reminds himself - date. "Not a lot of people out there looking to give funding to a nuclear physicist whose expertise is with bombs but is…" He shakes his head sadly.

"Anti-weapons?" Tony raises an eyebrow, but has a knowing gleam in his eyes. He's probably managed to gain access to all of this information, but Bruce will share it anyhow since that's what's expected of him.

So he nods and continues. "I… I built a gamma bomb for the military in exchange for putting me through college. I… I didn't like it, but it paid the bills. I thought… Well, it doesn't matter what I thought," he shakes his head again. "Someone nearly died," he says. "And I got sick, Hematopoietic ARS, from exposure to the radiation. It put it into perspective what I was helping to create. I never wanted that.

"So I moved on. I started focusing on biochemistry, trying to find a way to help soldiers and civilians resist the cellular damage that comes from weapon fallout. Then on the side I worked on my Bannertech…" He grows sheepish again. "Uh, or, well that's what I call it. Nothing's patented that way yet. Actually, some of it is open-sourced because I want it to help people and that doesn’t happen when… Well, I don't have to tell you how it is. Anyway, you can imagine the military isn't interested in that kind of work and getting funding for tech I'd like to remain as open as possible, well, it's not easy."

"Wait," Tony looks at him strangely, "you're telling me there's tech out there you ultimately designed that you're not getting credit for?"

Bruce licks his suddenly dry lips. Of course a man like Tony Stark would find that to be absolutely stupid. This is what happens when he talks too much about himself. "Essentially," he admits.

"Wow," Tony says and for a moment Bruce thinks he actually sounds awed. He's about to banish that ridiculous notion when Tony surprises him further. "That's impressive. I don't think I've ever met anyone with our level of genius who would do something like that. I wouldn't," he says and then hitches a shoulder. "Hope that's not a deal breaker because I've gotta say I'd be disappointed what with the way this is going."

Bruce sputters and opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He's grateful when the waiter appears to take their order. Tony orders a club sandwich with extra bacon and coffee. He's less grateful when he realizes that he's about to show his hand; he's one of _those_ people, those freaks. He takes a deep breath and orders an iced green tea with lemon and the portabella mushroom cheese 'steak' half sub. The sandwich was one of the reasons he selected this café when Natasha arranged their date. At least he'll get to enjoy it even if it kills what floundering chance he might have had for a second date – if Tony Stark even does second dates; he seems to remember his having a reputation of sorts.

When the waiter walks away, Bruce looks back over to see Tony studying him like he's a puzzle. He sighs and cuts to the chase. "I wasn't always a vegetarian." He shrugs. "I didn't recover from the ARS for about eighteen months. I know not everybody buys into the food and body mantra, but adjusting my diet really helped with the recovery process. I've… I've tried to maintain it since. There was a period of time that I didn't, but… I got sick a lot and my body just sort of rejected the heavier proteins and overly processed items. I really have to moderate the processed stuff still, though I do indulge in some things like grains, sugar, cheese obviously. Oh and eggs. Lacto-ovo is the technical term. But the other meat… just not a good idea." He shrugs again and looks down at the table.

"You sound like you're apologizing," Tony says in response to his explanation and he snaps his eyes back up to meet intense brown ones still studying him but now filled with something that's unreadable. "Who's the bastard that told you to stop eating how you wanted? Did you stop for that person or was it for you? I mean, you don't have to tell me. I'm just – It's sort of my thing to fire off questions. You know how it is. Can't do the equation unless you have the variables."

For a moment Bruce's mind short circuits. He doesn't know if he's more overwhelmed by the prospect of answering that question or the fact that Tony seems genuinely… concerned? "I…" He knows he shouldn't. You're not supposed to mention past relationships on first – _only_ – dates. "I was with someone… They were… decidedly not vegetarian. They insisted if I wasn't sick anymore then what was the point in depriving myself. I thought they made a good point." He shrugs. "It just didn't turn out to be a good working theory, you know?"

Tony narrows his eyes and Bruce is immediately aware that the genius has finally read all of the signs and guessed at what he isn't telling. "But you kept trying for a while on their account, didn't you?"

"I thought… Maybe it was acclimation or…" He raises his hands and looks back down at the table. He's meek. He's a weakling. He's pathetic. He's a freak. Now Tony knows the truth. He'd made himself sick just to please another person because he'd thought it was love. He'd done a lot for that person. He's done a lot for people in general. Now he knows better and yet here he is where he shouldn't be with a man he wouldn't deserve even if he wasn't all of those things.

The waiter returns with their drinks then and there's a slight lull in the conversation even after the waiter is gone.

"I know the feeling," Tony says finally and that surprises him. "Pleasing people. Kind of something you internalize when you're the son of a multimillionaire and always in the spotlight. There were a lot of expectations. I kind of shucked them all and went the other extreme. Did the whole rebellious scene for a while. I'm sure you've heard the stories."

"Not in detail," Bruce admits. He's uninteresting. He doesn't keep up with social gossip to that extent.

"Probably for the best or you'd bolt for the door," Tony says with a laugh that crinkles his dancing eyes and even though they may not be that old, barely 30, Bruce thinks he looks like he's got all of the youthful exuberance of a teenager and it draws him in. "Then I had a major life adjustment when my parents died and I had a company thrust on me. I floundered for a few years. Still tried to do the party scene and left the details to someone else. But then one day I woke up feeling like I was going to have a heart attack at 26. I met with a doctor about it. Great guy. Immigrant. Lost his family because of weapons my father's company distributed that managed to make it into the hands of terrorists."

Tony pauses and Bruce can feel the crease in his brow as he listens to Tony's story. He marvels at how the man has gone from laughing and carefree to sober without so much as blinking. "That wasn't the legacy I wanted to leave. I went into the Board, said as much, and that's when I realized my entire existence was to be a puppet, to please the trustees, to please the shareholders, to please the media, to please the government, the military… The list went on and on. And I realized all the things I was doing to escape that weren't because I enjoyed them intrinsically but because I was so sick of pleasing other people without even realizing it and no amount of sex or alcohol was going to make that go away. So I did something about it. I know you know that much at least. The infamous shut down of weapons manufacturing kind of made headlines. As did my sabbatical that followed and the drama with SI trying to kick me out of my own company."

Bruce nods. "Yeah, I read all about it. But you're so…" He starts, but trails when he doesn't know how to compliment the man on his one-eighty turn around that doesn't really apply to him. Tony Stark's a force to be reckoned with. Everyone knows that. He's obviously not meek or weak or anything else. "It's different," he sighs, looking down.

"Hey," Tony says firmly, but there's still a strange gentility about it. "I already knew about your accident. You _saved_ that kid. You're a hero. And you could have died from that gamma exposure. You know that right?"

"I sometimes wish I had," he says before he realizes how awful of an idea it is to admit that. He looks up just in time to see the broken look that falls across Tony's face. His stomach jumps at the intensity of it.

Tony blinks and then schools his face to be more neutral. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought about drinking myself to death a few times." Then he leans in and it nearly takes Bruce's breath away. "The point I'm making is we're both still here so that means we have a chance to change our legacy. But to do that we can't tiptoe around other people whenever they disapprove of something we know is the right thing. Not often you get a second chance. We're still here so we might as well strut."

Bruce knows he's frowning, but he can't help it. He's weak. He can't do anything _but_ tiptoe. If he were to try anything else it wouldn't go well. He knows nobody would take him seriously or else he'd lose himself in a power trip and become his father and he especially doesn't want that. He's done the math; there can't be any other way for him so he does what he can as himself. If it means he does it alone, so be it. He's spent the last eight months resigning himself to that fate after all.

"It's a nice sentiment," he offers genuinely.

"But you don't believe it," Tony says knowingly and sits back. Bruce's face softens and he shakes his head. "And, hey, I get that. I didn't come here to lecture you or give you the Tony Stark 3 Step Plan to becoming an obnoxious asshole. God, that's probably the last thing that would make you feel comfortable in your own skin, am I right?" He laughs at his own humor and it somehow manages to be endearing.

He continues. "The short of it is there are way more important things to worry about other than whether somebody has a problem that you're eating a certain way to keep yourself from getting sick or whatever else there is that people have probably given you shit for. I mean, it's such a small damn thing that doesn't matter and it's nobody else's business. For the record, I don't care in case I haven't made that clear yet. You didn't tell me not to eat bacon so why would I tell you not to eat a mushroom sandwich? Sounds good enough to me. Hell, cut me off a bite and I'll try it. I'm adventurous. I actually have this green smoothie recipe that would probably make you puke your guts out. Not even Natasha can handle it."

Bruce doesn't know when it happens or how it happens, although he's pretty sure it's because Tony gabbles a mile a minute and still sounds as earnest as can be, but suddenly there's a rusty bark of laughter and he realizes with great surprise that it's his own.

"Damn, you're gorgeous," Tony then says like it's just a natural extension of the previous ramble, taking him by such surprise that he's once again grateful that the waiter has returned with their food to offer a distraction. "I meant that, you know," Tony says when the waiter has gone again, voice pitched low as if it'll be less threatening this time than before.

"Uh…" Bruce stammers a little as he cuts off a bite of his sandwich for Tony to try without thinking twice, taking his suggestion as if he'd meant it and hoping he's not looking like an idiot. "I can't say I've ever heard that before. I'm… not exactly the height of male glory," he says and means it. "I have it on good authority I'm too skinny, I'm a weakling, my eyes are terrible and—"

Tony stops him suddenly by reaching out and taking the piece of sandwich that Bruce had forgotten he was even holding for him. "That sounds like the opposite of good authority," Tony says as he bites into the fairly generous portion Bruce had given him to sample. "Not bad," he says when he finishes. "Needs a bit of a kick for my tastes though."

Bruce blinks and can't help the small smile that spreads across his face. "Huh. Maybe a spicy mayo?"

"Mmm, yeah," Tony says as he finishes the piece. His eyes are closed as if he's imagining it and Bruce feels himself starting to lose his sorely earned control because sitting here with him feels pretty nice. "Yeah, that would do it. You came up with that off the top of your head. Do you cook?" He asks it a little too eagerly perhaps, but Bruce can't complain because he likes to cook and… his father had been unkind about it. As had others. And others still hadn't really appreciated his efforts even if they enjoyed them.

"Uh, yeah. I had to cook a lot as a kid for, well, for reasons I won't get into," he fumbles a little and is grateful that Tony doesn't stop him right there for details. "And then with the whole eating healthier thing, you kind of have to make a lot of the stuff yourself. Especially when you're avoiding too much processed stuff like you get in the stores. Like the mayo, I'd probably make it myself."

"Jeez, you were already hot and, frankly, mesmerizing, but that seals it." Tony smiles and then shakes his head firmly. "Anyone who thinks you're not a package is crazy."

Bruce is taken back. "I'm not—"

"What? Hot?" Bruce purses his lips, but then nods minutely. Tony snorts. "Well, if you're not hot then it's time for me to get my eyes checked because I'm not sure what I want more right now, to peel you out of your clothes or to buy you a closet full of purple shirts because, damn, it looks good on you. _You_ look good. I've been with models and trust me, they get boring. I'm way more tantalized by what you've got going on, Dr. Banner. The ruffled scientist look? It works. Own it." He then takes a bite of his own food finally and Bruce is glad for the reprieve.

Tony is saying all of the things that he'd never expected to hear and for a moment he wonders if Tony just wants to get him into bed for the night. Maybe he shouldn't hope for more. Maybe he should be glad for the chance. Hell, maybe he'll even take it if it comes to that, but he knows he'll just hurt again in the morning because people like Tony are too good to be true. People like Tony don't exist to say things like that about people like Bruce and really mean them. At least, not unless there's a motive or it's only friendly. So maybe he shouldn't take it for more than that to be on the safe side.

"Thank you," he says genuinely before taking a bite of his sandwich and deciding to leave it at that. But then he realizes that would be remiss of him so when he swallows he says, "I'm sure you've heard it a million times, but you're pretty much…" His face flushes and he dies a little inside but presses on, "…uh, well, what most would call the height of male glory." He takes a drink then and determinedly looks away for a moment.

"Sure, I'm attractive, but I wouldn't go that far. Unless maybe we're talking in bed," he says casually and Bruce is glad that he had finished his drink or that would have been the actual death knell. "I have it on good and bad authority both that I'm glorious in bed." Bruce looks over to see Tony smirking and he can't begrudge him for that confidence. Due to a number of circumstances, Bruce has slept with about as many people as he has fingers on one hand so a man like Tony wouldn't want him for more than one night even if it came down to that. "Most people go in for the All-Americans like Steve Rogers or the MMAs like Don Blake," he says in reference to two men that Bruce is glad he's heard of or else he'd be embarrassingly lost. "I'm just a good score with an even better bank account. Which, incidentally, is why I didn't want Nat telling you it was me you were meeting. I mean I guess that's a little dumb since clearly you've met me now and you could still take advantage of it, but I thought maybe… I don't know." He shrugs.

Suddenly, strangely, Bruce gets it. Tony doesn't want to be on this date as the man everyone says he is or thinks he is any more than Bruce wants to be on it because of what others have told him he is or what he believes he is. They're maybe not so different. Maybe Tony struts for the same reason Bruce tiptoes. Maybe they're both looking for a way to meet in the middle, find a balance to their equations.

"You're right," Bruce says and Tony blinks at him in surprise. "If I had known who Tasha was setting me up with I would have said hell no." He smiles thinly because for the first time, in a long time, it's exactly what he wants to say right when he wants to say it even if it's not what the other man wants to hear.

Tony, being the strange creature that he apparently is, smiles wryly in return. "That so?"

Bruce nods. "It is, but for the same reasons you think others would have said yes. Not sure if you've noticed, but this is a little overwhelming. I'm not… I'm not really good at this. And I'm sure you're an expert."

"You'd be surprised," Tony offers.

"Still, I'm not under any delusions that I'm in the same league as you," Tony frowns minutely at that, but he can't change the truth just because it isn't pretty. "And I'm not interested in your money or," his lips quirk up in humor before he can check it, "glorious bed skills."

Tony barks out a laugh then, throwing his head back as he does, and Bruce can't help but laugh too, though not as bombastically, because it's just so strange a sight and feeling. "Well, I'll have you know, you'd be missing out. I could spoil you rotten in the streets and in the sheets."

Bruce huffs out a breathy laugh and can't help himself from bantering. It suddenly feels natural. "Oh, there was supposed to be a just in that statement. I’m not _just_ interested in your money or glorious bed skills."

Tony chuckles again, but then composes himself. "Well, that's a relief. Because not having that pretense is a nice change. And even if you decide you're not into this, or me, Natasha's right about being friends. Would have hated to have missed that chance at least…"

Then they finish their meals in a companionable silence before ordering a huge slice of blueberry cheesecake to share. As they do, they talk about anything and everything. Tony is mostly into rock, but he digs the classic music scene in general and certainly doesn't have anything against a man who digs Bob Marley or James Taylor like Bruce does. Their conversation somehow comes back to science on more than one occasion, but it doesn't make it feel like a professional date. It feels just as much like a melding of souls as minds; it feels like they could bounce ideas off of each other for days on end and never scratch the surface or get bored. At one point Tony laughs suddenly and when Bruce looks at him strangely he explains that he hates to be handed things; Bruce immediately understands that it's because he's handed Tony three different things over the course of their date. Tony laughs at his jokes and it seems genuine and strange because that just doesn't happen normally. Tony flirts shamelessly with him and makes no small effort to let him know that he really does find him attractive on a multitude of levels.

When they realize they've lingered long enough, Tony asks him outright if he would be offended if he paid the check since he has more than enough money to spare. It's such a small gesture, but it feels like an overwhelmingly big one for reasons that Bruce decides not to give any more thought to for the time being. At the start of the date he would have either stammered a 'sure' to please him or would have insisted on paying because the date was surely a train wreck and he didn't need pity on top of everything else. So he lets Tony pay and doesn't blink twice because the gesture means so much more this way.

Well, he does hesitate for a slight moment, thinking maybe he should be coy and suggest something like, "Only if you let me pay for the next one." But then he realizes he doesn't want whatever might happen next to be because he tried to bargain for it or for Tony to think he'll only accept his offer to pay the bill on a proviso. So he doesn't, Tony pays, and they leave the café together.

"Where are you parked?" Tony asks.

"Down the block," Bruce answers and before he can ask why, Tony gestures with his arm for him to lead the way.

"So, I was thinking," Tony starts and Bruce holds his breath. "You really should come by Stark Tower sometime. Not to brag, but the top 10 floors are all R&D and I think you'd definitely appreciate it. It's Candyland. I'd love to give you the tour and…" Tony stops and Bruce stops too – which is just as well since they've just about reached his moped. "Then maybe we could get dinner? There's this shawarma joint I like. I could call and find out if they have a vegetarian option. Or we could do whatever you'd like to do. I own the entire Star Trek collection, in case that interests you."

A lopsided sort of grin takes over his face against his will and he hopes that's not the one thing that finally damns him in the end because against all odds he wants to go on another date with Tony Stark. He wants to see Stark Tower. He wants Tony to go that extra mile to accommodate him. He definitely wants to watch Star Trek with him. For the first time, in a long time, he knows exactly what he wants and surprisingly he's not afraid to go for it even after the kind of past he's had.

"The entire collection?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and dry tone; he still thinks most people would find his voice dull and uninteresting like him, but maybe Tony isn't most people. Tony smiles wide in answer. "Impressive. I'd definitely like to see Stark Tower and go on another date."

"Great. I'll have Pepper check my schedule and I'll give you a call." He pulls out his Starkphone, a fancy piece of technology that Bruce recognizes only because Natasha has one for being on staff at SI. Bruce pulls out his decidedly less fancy, read: practical, phone and they exchange numbers as they continue the short trek that's left to his moped. "Let me guess, you like open air?" Tony asks when they reach it, looking it over and then turning to him.

"Yeah," he answers and it doesn't even surprise him at this point that Tony made such an accurate leap of logic.

"It's great, right?" He asks with a giddy smile and Bruce realizes it's something they have in common, even if he gets the distinct impression that Tony loves it more than he does and maybe fore different reasons.

"It is," he offers just the same, matching his eagerness, and then they stand there for a few moments in silence, staring at each other as if they're both trying to read the situation or each other's mind.

It's that do or die moment of any first date. It doesn't surprise him when Tony steps in first, somehow confident and tentative at the same time. It nearly surprises him when he takes the short step, almost only a lean really, in to close the space between them and to let Tony know he's more than okay with this, because he is. Tony's hands find his waist and Bruce somewhat awkwardly holds his helmet under one arm and grabs Tony's shoulder with his free hand to steady himself. They move in slow, eyes closing only at the last moment when their lips meet.

Bruce doesn't know how it feels for Tony, but for him it feels like the best kiss he can recall having had no matter how silly it sounds. It's the kind of spark that he's spent the last eight months not believing can or should exist and maybe Tony feels it too because it's not exactly the most chaste first date kiss. Their lips slide together and there's an inevitable hint of tongue in the way they move back slightly, as if going to break it, only to come right back in again for more, something a little deeper each time. It dances between the common sense to play it safe and the chemicals buzzing between them and driving them towards something a little more reckless.

When one of them or maybe both of them, Bruce isn't even sure, realizes they should stop while they're ahead, they pull apart. Bruce knows it might be the endorphins, but he hasn't felt this good in literal years. Certainly long before his last relationship which, though good at the start, had never felt even close to this. He doesn't know where it might go in the future and that's a little terrifying, but today at least was amazing.

"I really had a good time, Dr. Banner," Tony says and Bruce smiles.

"I did too. And you can call me Bruce," he offers as he puts on his helmet.

Tony smiles next and his eyes crinkle again. "Alright, then, Bruce. I hope you get home safely and if I text you obnoxiously about science at 2 in the morning, well, my apologies in advance."

Bruce laughs softly. "You definitely don't have to apologize about that. As long as you don’t mind if I text back."

"Now how could I mind a thing like that?" Tony asks playfully and then they say another farewell and part ways. Bruce thinks he smiles more on his ride home than he has in ages.

The gravity of that doesn't settle in for a few more months at least, months with a fair share of days nicer than that one and then those days that aren't necessarily as nice as that one because he's still learning and as it turns out Tony is too, but when it does settle in he looks back and realizes it was on that day in the café when they both watched love begin again.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic idea got lodged in my brain while I was writing Get In Line, Settle Down (because of the Taylor Swift references) and was pointedly ignored until I posted that. So today I had some time and decided to whip this up. There's definitely a bit of id-ing going on for me with Bruce in this which is why I went with meek Bruce + some of his old school comic canon. Basically all of the self-loathing things he thinks in spite of evidence to the contrary is what it feels like to be inside my brain :3


End file.
